We Build Then We Break
by shellcottages
Summary: It's May 2nd, 1998. Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, has conquered. Chaos has ensued. Harry is thrust into a position to become the symbol of magical reform, but he isn't sure this is a role that he wants to take on…
1. A New Beginning

_Author's Note: Thanks for checking this story out! I've been working on it for a VERY long time! _

**—CHAPTER ONE—**

**A New Beginning**

Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, had survived yet again. It had become such a common occurrence that it hardly even surprised him anymore, yet pleased him nonetheless. None other than Harry himself had killed Lord Voldemort, the greatest dark wizard of all time and the man who murdered Harry's parents when he was a baby. Harry didn't even know what to think; the last time he had felt so free from Voldemort's dark magic was before he had even known of his existence, and that was before Harry knew that he was a wizard.

Harry descended down the stairs from the Headmaster's office of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry with his best friends Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger at his side. He could not have been more grateful to have those two still alive and being able to walk next to him. It was the two of them who had believed in Harry from the start, and without their help he may not have still been standing there.

'I'm starving,' said Ron, not out of his usual tone of voice.

Harry could not help but agree. He had not been able to eat since the early morning of the day before. Almost twenty-four hours had passed since then. Harry had not known that they would not be returning to Shell Cottage that evening, nor had he realized that by dawn they would have won the battle.

'We can always get Kreacher to get us something,' said Harry, speaking of the house-elf he had inherited from his godfather who now worked at Hogwarts.

As the trio reached the end of the stairs, they noticed that the gargoyle, which moments ago was celebrating loudly, was now sound asleep. Preparing to advance forward, they looked into the distance. Hogwarts as they remembered it was gone. The ornate stone walls were blown away, leaving dust and rubble on the ground. The lanterns which once brought a cheery glow to the ancient halls of the school were knocked out of their holders, a few of their flames dancing on the ground. Blood was splattered sporadically down the hallway and at the very end of the corridor was a human body.

None of them moved. This image seemed to last hundreds of years. Harry wanted to run away from it, for it all to go away, but his feet would not move. He felt as if he were forced to truly take in all that Hogwarts had lost under Voldemort's regime. He thought of all the students, families of students, staff members, whomever the bloody mass he saw on the other end once belonged to; they had all lost their lives from the hands of one man, a man whose name they feared to say.

Suddenly, a cry broke the silence and solemnity of the scene. Harry turned to his left and saw tears dripping down from Hermione's face. Before he could even process the fact that Hermione was crying, Ron had already pulled her into his arms, letting her cry on his shoulder. Harry was unsure if they would have wanted him to interfere, and decided to let Ron simply hold her in his arms as he stood to the side.

'It's okay, Hermione,' Ron whispered in her ear. He kissed her on the top of her head, and Harry noticed a tear in Ron's eye as well. It was obvious to Harry that Ron didn't believe all that he was telling her. 'It's going to be okay.' Ron's voice broke, and he too began to cry. Hermione started to cry all the harder.

Harry knew it was okay for him to step in; Hermione's arm was half outstretched asking for him to be with them. He joined, the three of them huddled in each other's arms. Hermione was sobbing nearly soundlessly onto Ron's shoulder, Ron was doing his best to hide back his tears, and Harry could feel his own eyes swelling up with water. He thought about everyone that he had lost since Voldemort came into his life. He had lost his parents, his godfather, some of the wisest and bravest people he had ever knew, the people who were a family to him. Harry thought about Ron and Hermione, and how this past year they had lost their family as well; Hermione removing her parent's memory, leaving them to start a new life in Australia, Ron losing his own brother only hours ago …

The tears were now dripping down Harry's face. Words could not describe the amount of emotional pain he felt at that moment. Everyone he loved has lost someone they love, many losing multiple and some even losing their own lives.

But it was really only me he wanted, Harry thought. They killed all those people so he could get to me, to make me weaker, but it affected so much more than just me. It affected everyone. Everyone who I've ever known …

They stood there holding one another for a long time. They were bonded tightly, sobbing into each other and with no plans of letting go. Every single ounce of their remaining energy was focused upon each other, letting the other two know that they were going to stay with each other until the very end.

After what could have been hours, Ron was the first to speak. His face had the shininess of dried tears and his eyes were pointing towards the ground.

'What happens next?' he said.

Harry hardly knew what to say. Exhaustion was truly starting to set in; the sun was now halfway towards the top of the sky. He had hardly slept at all the night before he set off to Gringotts, and the day previous had Harry working endlessly without stopping.

'We'll sleep on it,' Harry said finally. "We need the rest, the world can get on without us for a couple of hours now that Voldemort's gone."

'Where are we going to sleep?' asked Hermione, still shaking slightly from the tears.

'Gryffindor Tower,' said Harry. 'Let's put the Cloak on, then nobody will see us get up to the dormitories.'

Harry held out the Invisibility Cloak that had been in his left hand and lifted it over himself, Ron and Hermione. They set off, avoiding any of the hallways where the most damage was done. Because this meant detours from the most direct hallways, it took them a while longer before they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady.

The portrait was asleep, but her door was not closed properly. Harry, doing the best he could not to wake up the Fat Lady, slowly opened the door little by little, until at last it was wide enough to crawl through the portrait hole. Harry entered first.

Inside were the families of the few Gryffindor that had remained at Hogwarts for the battle. Harry was surprised to find them all hanging about on the Common Room floor; had others already taken up all the beds up in the dormitories?

Harry turned around to see Hermione being helped into the portrait hole by Ron. They were thinking along the same lines that Harry was.

'Blimey,' Ron said, 'I didn't think there were that many families still at Hogwarts.'

There was some movement in the room. Harry could hear it, but could not trace the source of it right away. He learned where the sound had come from just as the thing that was making it was coming down the stairs.

'Hey, Harry,' said Neville Longbottom in almost a whisper. 'Ron, Hermione,' he added, addressing the other two.

'Hello, Neville,' said Harry quietly. He looked at Neville for a long time. Neville was the one who destroyed Voldemort's final Horcrux, his snake. If Neville hadn't had done so, the battle could have still been going on … or it could have been lost.

'Listen, Neville, thank you for killing the snake. If it weren't for you, I don't know what would have happened to any of us.'

Neville shrugged it off as if he didn't mind, but Harry could tell that he was very proud of himself. 'No big deal, mate,' he said, 'what are friends for?'

Harry felt a surge of gratitude towards Neville and put his hand out to shake his. Neville accepted, shaking it vigorously. Once they separated, Neville pointed towards one of the tables. On top of it lied the Sword of Godric Gryffindor.

'The sword,' Neville started, 'people are saying that only a true Gryffindor could have pulled it out of the Sorting Hat.'

'It's true,' Harry replied. 'Dumbledore told me in our second year.'

Neville considered this, then shook his head. 'That can't be true. I'm not a true Gryffindor,' he said. 'I can hardly do any magic. I'm not a good wizard at all, but for some reason I got it.'

'It is our choices that show us who we really are,' said Harry, 'far more than our abilities. Dumbledore taught me that one too. Whether you're the greatest wizard in the world is worthless if you're not going to use your powers for good. You are a true Gryffindor, Neville. You're one of the bravest people I have ever met.'

As the sun was now climbing higher in the skies over Hogwarts, Harry could see that Neville was blushing slightly. He turned towards the staircase from which he came from and gestured toward it.

'We've put all the bodies from our side in beds in the girls' dormitory,' said Neville. 'We–, well I guess I decided it seeing as I'm the only one still awake, thought it was best to give the ones who died for us a proper spot until we can think of funeral arrangements.'

'How did you get up there? In the girls' dormitories?' asked Ron, remembering an incident in their fifth year when they were unable to enter.

'All the old rules have changed,' said Neville. 'I didn't even have to say a password to get into the Common Room. Getting upstairs was easy.

'Anyways, you three should sleep up in the boys' dormitories. There's room up for you there now—'

'No,' interrupted Harry simply. 'There are loads of people who deserve to sleep up there more than we do'

'It doesn't matter, Harry,' Neville replied. 'You're the ones who did You-Know-Who in, didn't you?'

'Yes, but we couldn't have done it without your help. You go up and sleep there then.'

Neville shook his head. 'I don't want the credit. I just did what you asked.' And with that, he walked across the room to a sleeping bag he had set up by Harry's favourite armchair. As he started to open it, he signalled Harry away up into the dormitories.

'We might as well go up there,' yawned Hermione, putting a hand over her mouth. 'Nobody will mind. Actually, he probably will mind if we don't go up there.'

Harry was too tired to argue, and set off up the twisted staircase. Along the way he passed some familiar faces; he could see the sandy hair of Seamus Finnegan, the curly locks of Lavender Brown and, Harry's stomach gave a lurch, the silhouette of Ginny Weasley who lied closest to the staircase. Harry thought he saw her eyes flutter he passed her, but put this aside with a shake of the head and walked up to the dormitories.

Before turning left into the boys' dormitories, his eyes lingered on the door on the right. Inside, he knew, were all the people who had died to defeat Voldemort. Lupin was in there, and so was Tonks, and Colin Creevey, and Fred Weasley himself. Harry wanted to go in there, to bring them all back, or if he couldn't do that then to just apologize for their lives ending prematurely.

'Not tonight, mate,' said Ron, noticing Harry's gaze as he opened the dormitory door. 'We'll have plenty of time in the morning.'

Harry gives the door on the right hand side a final look and sets off into the boys' dormitory.

Inside, Harry called Kreacher to make them something to eat before they went to bed. They ate, yet Harry did not feel satisfied; he felt he ate simply because he had to.

Once they had all finished their sandwiches, Harry, Ron and Hermione crawled into their beds in silence. Harry wanted to say so many things to them: to in some way thank him for all they've done tonight, for all they've done for him in the seven years he's known them, but the words were lost and remained unsaid.

Harry found it difficult to sleep, even as tired as he was. This would be his first night where there the wizard who killed his parents was gone forever. There was no evil in the world, now that everyone had come together to beat him. The people who remained had nothing to fear anymore.

That's not true, Harry thought. The people who remained had more than enough to fear; the horrors of the past won't simply go away. More than enough innocent people had died throughout this journey. The thought of losing them would circle in their minds forever, possibly into madness.

Harry thought of his mother and father, of Sirius and Dumbledore. None of them had deserved to die at the hands of Voldemort. They were scapegoats, simply in the way of his path to get to me, Harry kept telling himself, over and over again into the night.

He figured that both Ron and Hermione had already fallen asleep, yet that was the last thing Harry thought he could do. His eyes were shut as tight as he could so not a single ray of sunlight would enter his sight. His mind was restless, thinking over and over again of how much he missed the people he had lost.

After hours, he realized that he didn't need to worry, for he had learned, before reaching his death in the Forbidden Forest, that his mother and father and everyone else he had loved had never truly left him. They were always a part of him, a part of him that nobody else could see. The only thing that drew his focus away from this fact was the opening and closing of a door, but he did not hear anything enter. He returned to thinking about his mother, close by his side and helping him with anything that would come.

He was just about asleep with this knowledge when Hermione made a loud gasp, and had awoken with rapid breathing.

Harry could hear the movement of sheets from Ron's direction and quick footsteps to Hermione's bedside. Harry found it remarkable that someone so particular about being interrupted in their sleep would be able to adjust as suddenly for specific people, until he realized that he would probably feel the same for Ginny.

Ginny. The name that popped up unexpectedly in his mind passed through his entire body like electricity. Harry had missed Ginny at this very moment more than ever. He needed to see the depths in her eyes, smell the flowery scent of her hair, feel the warmth of her lips …

Doing anything he could not to think about how much he missed Ginny, Harry decided to focus on the first thing he could find. He could hear Ron pulling back Hermione's bed sheets and climbing in next to her.

'You okay?'

'Yeah.'

'Do you think he's asleep?'

Harry knew that Ron was asking about him.

'Looks like.'

Harry felt guilty about eavesdropping on the conversation, but he needed some sort of distraction from the longing that was caused by Ginny Weasley.

'Did you have a nightmare?' asked Ron gently.

There was a moment's pause. Harry could not tell, as his eyes were closed, but he assumed that Hermione was probably nodding.

'It's going to be okay, Hermione, I promise you,' said Ron, saying her name slowly and carefully, as if it were the most delicate thing in the world.

Harry could hear Hermione sniffling; he could picture tears glistening off her face. He felt extremely guilty for listening in, but they were being so loud that even if he had tried not to, he would be forced to take in every word that they said.

'I can't do it anymore,' sobbed Hermione. 'Everything's ruined. So m-many people have died or have been h-hurt on our side. The world's going to be chaos, I w-want to get out of here.'

Harry knew exactly what she meant and hoped that Ron would be able to help her through that moment. She didn't deserve to feel that the world was lost, nor did anyone else. It may have been the worst state the world has ever been in, but it wouldn't get any worse; Voldemort was gone and it could only get better. Harry wanted nothing more that to tell Hermione this, but what Ron said next seemed to work for Hermione for the time being.

'I promise, Hermione, it's going to be okay,' said Ron, and Harry heard the unmistakeable sound of lips meeting and parting, then meeting again. Smiling to himself, Harry knew that this was the end of their conversation, and he would be able to fall asleep easily. The only thing he thought for a moment he heard was the opening and closing of a door again, but, as Ron and Hermione did not show any worry of anyone walking in on them and continued to kiss, Harry pushed this thought aside, focusing hard on trying to fall asleep, and soon …

The bed shifted to one side. Light was shining behind Harry's still-closed eyelids. It was probably noon, he thought, because that was when the sun would be at its highest. It was not only this that told him he had finally fallen asleep, but the fact that he felt rested. He thought he could probably do well with a few more hours of sleep, but with the sun this high it would be even more difficult than a few hours earlier.

'Hey, you.'

His eyes were still closed, but there was no mistaking who was sitting on the side of the bed next to him. At this moment he felt more awake than ever before, and his eyes flung open to see the exact person he had expected to see. The sun behind her magnified her beauty; even without his glasses on he still thought she was the most perfect girl in the world.

'Hey, Ginny,' Harry responded.

Harry sat up and put on his glasses as Ginny moved closer to the middle of the bed. Upon seeing her in clear vision, Harry felt as if he were in heaven. He had not been happier in what felt like years.

'How are you?' Harry asked carefully; he didn't know how she was reacting to things, especially her brother's death.

'I'm all right,' she said sadly, staying along the lines of what Harry had intended. 'It's … it's hard. It's sort of like when Dad got attacked, by that snake a few years ago. Only this time … we know Fred's not coming back.'

'How's everyone else?' Harry asked.

'I'm sure we're all just as sad as everyone else, but George is obviously showing it the most. He was a part of him, Fred was. He's been over there, in the other dormitory, just watching him all morning.'

Harry had never felt worse for the Weasley family. They were the only family he ever felt like he had, and that he was a part of the tragedy that had struck; he felt like this was his own brother that had passed.

He held out his hand, and Ginny took it. He wanted her to feel safe and comfortable.

'Bill and Fleur want us to bury him up at Shell Cottage,' said Ginny. 'Next to Dobby. They both died fighting on our side, on the side of the Order.' She looked away from Harry, not wanting to meet his eyes.

Harry pulled their hands closer to him, and she looked up into his eyes. 'It's a very sad thing, but we're going to be okay. He died fighting against evil, and that's the bravest thing anyone could have ever done. Fred wouldn't want any of us to be upset over him. He'd want us to keep laughing, to keep making jokes because it would keep him alive in all of us. And –' he made sure that she was looking deep into his eyes '– the ones we love are always here. They are a part of us. They will stay with us until the very end. Trust me.'

With that, Harry closed the topic. She knew it too, because after looking into his eyes for a few long moments, she looked out into the bright afternoon sunlight. He could tell that she believed him, or at least would work to believe him as hard as she could, and this made Harry feel stronger than he had been in ages.

'I tried coming up here twice already,' said Ginny. 'The first time you were asleep; the other time I saw them – ' she jerked her head to the left '– having a little snogging session. Wasn't exactly something I needed to see.'

Harry laughed, and looked in the direction she had gestured towards; Ron and Hermione were both on the bed, fast asleep, their hands clasped between them. Looking at two people so happy together brought Harry to realize that this was the moment to say to Ginny exactly what he felt for her.

'Ginny,' he started, 'these past few months I've spent without you have been …' Harry searched for a word to describe how he felt, 'they've been hell. They really have. It's been really hard not knowing what's happening to you, wondering if you're still alive …

'I don't think I've realized this until right now, but I don't think I could've gone through these past few months without thinking you were still going. You've kept me fighting. And right before I handed myself over to Voldemort, I wasn't even thinking about death. I was thinking about you, and how much you meant to me and how much I was going to miss being with you.'

Harry paused. He looked into Ginny's eyes and lost himself in them for a moment. Her mouth was open slightly, and Harry could tell she was listening intently.

'I think that was when I figured it out. Right when I knew, or rather when I thought I knew I would never have you again, I realized how much you mean to my life.'

And Harry leaned in and kissed her, and kissed her passionately. It felt perfect to Harry. This was the girl of his dreams, there was simply no other way. She moved closer and closer to him, eventually sitting on his lap with her legs wrapped around him, her arms around his neck; he placed his own hands on her waist.

After some time, the two separated, and Harry wanted nothing more than to stay in this moment forever. He looked in her eyes, determining exactly how deep into her he could see through them. Ginny looked back into his own eyes as well, but suddenly broke off and smiled to herself.

'I take it we're back together then,' she said, and Harry laughed.

'Yeah,' said Harry, 'I guess we are.'

Harry leaned in to kiss her once more, but before their lips could meet, the sound of Ron stirring pulled them in opposite directions. The two untangled themselves from eachother as Ron yawned, stretching his arms into the air. This caused him to unclasp his hand from Hermione's, but Harry noticed that as soon as he was done stretching he went to find it again and interlocked his fingers with hers. During all this, Ginny slid up on the bed, hiding behind Harry the best she could.

Ron finally seemed awake enough to roll over on his side. He gave Harry a nod to acknowledge him.

'Good sleep, Harry?' he said in a casual tone.

'I s'pose. You?'

"Yeah, all right.' Ron lifted his left arm up slightly, the one tightly holding Hermione's hand. He smiled for a moment, but his eyes wandered and saw Ginny sitting behind Harry and his expression changed.

'What the hell is going on?' Ron asked worriedly.

'We were snogging, Ronald.' Ginny said calmly. 'Is that a problem?'

'Well, yeah, it's a problem!' Ron said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. 'If you're going to do … well, that then don't do it in front of me! Do it in private!'

Ginny laughed. Harry, feeling that laughing was the last thing he wanted to do, focused his eyes on the wall opposite.

'You were sleeping, idiot,' said Ginny, 'you wouldn't have noticed I was even here if you woke up a little while later. And don't make it look as if we're the only guilty ones. Care to explain yourself, Ron?'

Ron's ears turned redder and redder by the second. He answered loudly and clearly. 'She had a nightmare and she needed some comfort.'

Once again, Ginny laughed, and Harry continued to stare at the wall on the other side of the room. He felt incredibly awkward being literally between this argument.

'Was the nightmare about the Dementor's Kiss and you "comforted" her by getting there first?'

This brought Ron to his breaking point. Harry knew he was about to shout when Hermione started to turn over, waking up. Ron turned his attention to her. Harry could not have been more grateful that this argument was over.

Harry, Ron, and Ginny all said their good-mornings to Hermione. Harry noticed the worry in Hermione's eyes. He knew that Ron's way of fixing the problem only setting it aside for the time being. She had said it herself: '_the world's going to be chaos_.' Nothing was going to be the same anymore.

After a moment's pause, the four of them decided that, since it was well into the afternoon, to begin the day. They didn't discuss what they had to do first, yet somehow they all knew: they had to visit Fred. There had been many people who had died from their side, yet Fred was the one they had to see first. Fred was as good as a brother to Harry, seeing as he considered all the Weasley's to be family.

They crossed along the narrow passageway from the boys to the girls dormitories. Harry felt Ginny's hand tighten around his own as Ron opened the door.

Harry looked around. He recognized many familiar faces: Lupin, Tonks, Colin Creevey, Terry Boot, who was a member of Dumbledore's Army, a small boy he remembered as Derek who stayed at Hogwarts for Christmas during Harry's third year, Professor Sinistra, the Astronomy teacher, and, with the most people sitting around him, Fred Weasley.

Ginny's grip became tighter and Harry responded by gripping her hand back. Harry saw Ron and Hermione supporting eachother as well as they walked towards Fred's bed.

Already there were Arthur and Molly, all of the Weasley siblings, Fleur, an unknown woman who was holding hands with Percy, and Angelina Johnson. They all stood up and gave the four latecomers a hug, Harry whispering 'I'm sorry' in every one of their ears.

Although they were all in a state of sadness, George by far looked the worst. His eyes were empty, past the point of crying. Harry didn't know what to do for him. He assumed that there was nothing like losing a twin, a person who had literally been through everything with you, and to be expected to go on without them. With nothing to do to help him, Harry stood off to the side, allowing Ginny to go up with her family, but she pulled him up with her, not letting go of his hand.

Nobody said anything. Harry didn't do anything to change this because he didn't know what he could say. He didn't feel comfortable here; this was a moment for family, he thought, and there was a difference between feeling like a part of the family and being a part of the family.

The next hour passed by in silence, only to be interrupted by cries and tears. Most of the family that was there already seemed to recover (Harry thought that they were probably there earlier that morning), but there was still depression seeping through the room. He saw Ron and Hermione, crying in eachother's arms. Twice, Harry had seen Ginny cry, and he hardly knew what to do. He held her, her head on his chest, trying to tell her in that embrace that everything was going to be all right as the tears slid down his own face.

Everything was going to change. This was a new beginning.

_Author's Note: Did you like it? Leave your reviews, I'd love to read them!_


	2. Kingsley's Address

_Author's Note: Hey guys, remember me? I'm writing a Harry Potter fanfic? I'm sorry this wasn't posted sooner! You wouldn't believe how mad this chapter made me as I wrote it. I have re-written at least half of it, and I'm still not fully satisfied, but I'm already working on Chapters 3, 4 and 5 and I promise you, it gets better! I hope you enjoy this chapter!_

**—CHAPTER TWO—**

**Kingsley's Address**

There was a knock on the door. Harry though that was odd, considering that this was not a private room. Nobody went to answer the door, but it wasn't necessary for anyone to do so, as the figures stepped in on their own; their knocking was only a sign of respect.

Entering the girls' dormitory were Professor McGonagall and Kingsley Shacklebolt. They were battle-worn and looked as though they haven't slept. This didn't surprise Harry, though; Kingsley was now the temporary Minister of Magic and likely had a lot of work to start on, and McGonagall was probably the new Headmistress of Hogwarts. Although nobody was speaking when the two of them entered, the room somehow seemed to get quieter.

They nodded curtly at all the families that were there, paying respects to those who have fallen, when at last they turned to Fred's body. Harry knew that because of the Order, Kingsley and McGonagall knew the Weasleys well. They seemed to linger for a moment behind the family, saying goodbye with the rest of them, until Kingsley broke the silence.

'Harry,' he said in his slow, deep voice. He had not said it loudly, yet any noise seemed to magnify a hundred times in the silence of the room. Harry turned around, and he saw him indicate for him to follow him outside of the dormitory.

Harry nodded. Ginny was still in his arms, and he looked her in the eyes to ask her if she was going to be okay if he left for a few moments. Her eyes (which Harry noted, were less teary) responded that she would, and he let her go as he headed for the door with Kingsley and McGonagall. Before they left, however, Kingsley stopped him.

'It might be best to bring Ron and Hermione along, too,' he said quietly, yet the voice carried. When Harry turned around to ask them to come along, they were already moving, although Ron doing so rather reluctantly. Neither Ron nor Hermione seemed capable of talking, and Harry wasn't sure if taking them along was the greatest thing for them.

They walked through the castle, still in silence. Every now and then someone would pass by through the ruined halls and stare ineptly at Harry. This did not surprise him; he was used to being looked as The Boy Who Lived, yet he realized that the circumstances were now different. Last time they saw him, he was only The Boy Who Lived, but now he was much more. Voldemort was gone for good, now. He wondered if he would start to be referred to as The Boy Who Won or The Boy Who Conquered. The thought made him inwardly smile.

At last, they reached the Headmaster's office. Out of habit, Harry, Ron and Hermione stopped walking, as a password had to be said to enter the room. Yet Kingsley and McGonagall continued on; the door opened automatically for them. Harry was able to move forward again before the adults had time to notice.

The office had barely changed since Harry was inside it the day before. The only difference was that many of the portraits, who were alive in glee after the Battle, were now either asleep or absent from their frames, spending time outside the Headmaster's Study.

There was a slight pause, and then …

'Minerva and I want to congratulate you three,' said Kingsley. 'The entire world owes their lives to your bravery and perseverance.'

Harry didn't know what to say to this, so he remained quiet.

McGonagall nodded in agreement with Kingsley. 'I don't think that we would ever be able to repay you for all you have done,' she said 'but if ever you are in need of anything, we will assist you any way we can.'

Harry figured the best thing he could do at that moment was nod, and so he did. Kingsley took off his hat, revealing his bald head.

'My first public address is tonight,' he began, slowly, 'and there are certain questions the community would like answered that I do not know the answers to. However, if you are willing to share some of the information with me the wizarding world may be put at ease.'

Although unsure that he would have the answers Kingsley needed, Harry nodded that he would tell him what he knew. Ron and Hermione did the same, but Harry knew that he would be doing most of the talking.

'Obviously, the most common question that is being asked is if Voldemort truly has been defeated. I trust that you have evidence that can prove that he is gone for good. Information on Dumbledore's plan might help provide the evidence needed.' He ended it almost on a question; a polite, less-formal way of seeking answers.

Both Ron and Hermione looked towards Harry. He didn't quite know how to answer this. Dumbledore had always told Harry not to reveal the information of the plan. Was this to remain after it was said and done? Feeling that the right thing to do was to keep quiet on the details, he made his decision.

'Dumbledore told us not to tell anyone else about his plan. I'm sure that even now, after it's completed, he'd want it to stay the same. The information isn't going to help anyways.'

McGonagall opened her mouth to protest, but she closed it almost immediately. After a moment of apparent inner struggle, she decided that it was best not to say what she was thinking. 'Yes, Potter,' she finally said, 'that is understandable to want it to be kept secret. I'm sure you have other means of providing evidence to the public to ease their anxiety.'

'Er …' started Harry. 'I don't exactly think there's any proof, actually.'

Harry knew that this wasn't what they wanted to hear, but he didn't have any other answer. Finally, after a long silence, Kingsley simply said, 'They'll just have to take our word for it.'

He turned to McGonagall. 'Minerva, send an owl to the Organization of Magical Broadcastand tell them that I will make my address within the hour.'

McGonagall nodded, and left the room towards the Owlery. Kingsley sat down in the Headmaster's chair, and with a flick of his wand three additional armchairs fell before them. Harry, Ron and Hermione sat down.

'Now,' he said, 'is there anything I could do for you?'

Harry didn't know what to say to this, so he looked at Ron and Hermione. They didn't have anything to add either, and the silence was on the edge of becoming awkward.

'Nothing?" Kingsley responded to the silence. 'Well, what about your futures, what can we do for that?'

'What do you mean?' asked Harry.

'Well, are you intending to return to school to complete your final year of your education?'

Immediately, Hermione replied 'yes' and Ron said 'no'. They looked at each other at first, as if criticizing the other's choice, and then their eyes went to Harry.

'Well, Harry?' asked Kingsley. 'What will it be?'

Harry had never thought about it. He'd never gotten an opportunity to picture life like this; Voldemort was gone, defeated, and, once it was rebuilt, he would have an opportunity to finish school. The weight of knowing he had to destroy him was now lifted, and he could make a decision about less-complex life matters again.

And Harry realized, right then and there in that room, that his life now had endless opportunities. He could see himself as a grown man, raising a family, watching as his children as they went off to Hogwarts. He had all of this to look forward to. The idea of being able to live a long and happy life after all that had happened seemed slightly odd to Harry, and he wondered if the novelty of that thought would ever wear off.

But going back to Hogwarts, that was a topic Harry would rather leave untouched. The decision was difficult to make. He decided a year ago that he would never go back, not for another year of school, yet this was at a time when all he could see ahead of him was Voldemort. Now that he was free from this burden, he could go back if he wanted to.

Hogwarts was Harry's first real home; he knew it to be true. He had seen it destroyed and he knew that his first home was finished. The prospect of making great new memories at the school had now retired, and Harry had made his decision.

'No, he won't want to go back,' said Ron, bringing Harry back to the Headmaster's Office. 'I think stating that you defeated the greatest Dark wizard of all time will be sufficient enough on a résumé.'

'Yes, but there could be some very important things from our N.E.W.T. classes that will benefit us in the future,' said Hermione.

'Yeah, and you can just tell us the stuff we need to know when we actually _need_ it,' said Ron. 'C'mon, Harry, you staying or what?'

'Well, I don't think I really need another year, do I?' replied Harry slowly. 'I mean, I've got enough experience to last in the real world, and I don't think I could stand to go back here.' He struggled for words to explain what he was feeling, but Kingsley merely nodded in understanding.

'All right, Miss Granger, we will send notice to you once the new term begins. Although, I don't expect it will start on the first of September of this year, considering all the repairs that need to be done.' Kingsley shook his head, and Harry noticed the amount of stress he was under by his posture. He was quiet for a moment and abruptly changed his tune.

'No matter, no matter,' he said, 'I don't think anyone expects us to recover so quickly after a war!' He chuckled to himself in a way Harry thought was his attempt to make light of the situation.

McGonagall entered the room, returning from sending the notice to the Ministry. Her lips were pursed, as if something was going on that she didn't approve of. Harry assumed it to be caused by his unwillingness to provide evidence of Voldemort's defeat.

'They have set up the broadcast to take place at precisely 3 o'clock, Kingsley.'

'Thank-you, Minerva,' replied Kingsley. 'Now, unless you three -' he signalled to Harry, Ron and Hermione 'have anything else you want to discuss, then you are free to go.'

Harry, Ron, and Hermione all looked at each other, agreeing that they were finished there, and began to stand up and leave.

'Harry,' said McGonagall suddenly, 'are you quite sure that you can't tell us the details of Dumbledore's plan? If Voldemort -' (Harry recognized her use of Voldemort's name) '- truly is gone, then there is no danger of us revealing _why_ or _how_ he is gone.'

'I beg to differ, Minerva,' said Kingsley, relieving Harry. 'Upon consideration, I think it is the best thing possible for the time being. Although Voldemort is gone we cannot deny that there are still many of his followers looking to continue his regime into the future. As Harry has implied, the process of defeating Voldemort was difficult because there was likely some sort of magic involved that had never been used to those proportions before. It's best if the secrets of the plan are known to as little amount of people as possible. A Death Eater would be less likely to discover secrets this way and the continuance of such extraordinary magic could be limited. Certainly we have numerous Aurors attempting to find all of them, but we could certainly miss one. At any rate, a highly-trained Legilimens could easily extract the information out of the people who know anyways, so it is wise to –'

Legilimens. The word triggered something in Harry's mind. If he had learned one thing from the Pensieve the other night, it was that he was truly on the good side, the side of the Order. But if he was on the side of the Order, and all those who had passed on the side of the Order had their bodies in the Gryffindor common room…

'Where's Snape?' asked Harry. Kingsley abruptly stopped talking; apparently he hadn't finished his monologue,

'Harry?'

'Snape, where is he?'

Kingsley and McGonagall looked at each other. Harry could sense Ron and Hermione looking at him too.

'He died,' said Kingsley, confused. 'I'm sure you had heard this already, Harry.'

'No,' said Harry impatiently, 'I mean his body, where is it?'

There was a silence where everyone looked at one another. Harry kept his eyes focused on Kingsley, waiting for his response.

'We left it there. Why are you asking all this?'

'Why did you do that? Snape was good, he was on our side.'

Nobody seemed to understand, but it was too much for him to explain. They all continued to look at Harry incredulously, and Harry knew why: the last time Harry had spoken of Severus Snape, it was of hatred; the man had killed Dumbledore, and he made sure everyone knew his feelings about it. Yet now Harry understood why it all had happened, and although it was a difficult concept to grasp, he had been forced to accept that it was true.

And then, almost as if on cue, Harry saw something in the corner of his eye; the empty frame above the Headmaster's chair became occupied. Albus Dumbledore walked in a dreamy haze, as if he had entered an entirely idealistic dream. Harry suspected the timing of his entrance was not entirely coincidental. Hardly before anyone else had noticed the former Headmaster's entrance, Harry had already gotten to his feet.

'Dumbledore, tell them that Snape's good,' he said hurriedly. 'I saw it, I found it all out last night, tell them that he really is good!'

Dumbledore raised a hand to silence Harry. There was something knowing about his eye that suggested that he knew what else Harry found out when he discovered what he had just announced. He said nothing about this, and addressed the room.

'Harry is correct. It is true; I had ordered Severus Snape to kill me so that Lord Voldemort would perceive him to be a faithful member of the Death Eaters. He obliged, and Voldemort had put his faith into him. Unfortunately, because Voldemort longed for further power and control, he had to dispose of Severus so as to increase them. Little did he know that his choices would not benefit him in the way he had expected, and the sacrifice of Severus was truly unnecessary. It is a shame such a brave man had to meet his end the way he did, but it is a relieving fact that he had done it truly loyal on the side of good.'

There was a slight pause after this, which McGonagall ended: 'How do you know how he died?'

'Well,' said Dumbledore, almost in a cheery tone, 'after the incident that took place in the Shrieking Shack four years ago, I figured it wise to add a few extra security measures to the place. No less than a day after the events, I had constructed a frame that all wizarding portraits within Hogwarts School could travel to. The owners of the Shack are unknown, and therefore it is impossible to ask if doing so is allowed for the safety of our students. It was unfortunate that I had to witness Severus' death, yet he died in the bravest way possible.'

'His portrait needs to be up there,' said Harry, signaling to the wall of the former Headmasters. 'How can we go about doing that?'

'You need the body,' piped Hermione straight away. 'Once you have that, it takes a potion and lots of difficult enchantments to put the figure in a frame. And to make him able to talk and think, that takes a matter of weeks, with certain spells performed on precise times. And then you'll have to factor –'

'Can we do all that?' asked Harry, cutting off Hermione.

'It can be arranged,' said Kingsley, but said nothing more.

'And now, I must ask one more thing of Harry,' said Dumbledore, looking at him. 'About the task you told me about last night, I must advise you to wait for a few days before doing so. There are other priorities in the wizarding world right now than a simple task as what we have discussed.

Harry nodded in understanding. He hadn't planned on returning the Elder Wand to Dumbledore's tomb straight away, but Dumbledore advising him to wait a while had confirmed the matter.

'Thank-you, you three,' said Kingsley. 'You are free to leave now. I must prepare for this public address.'

Harry, Ron and Hermione stood up, shook Kingsley's hand and left the Headmaster's study.

* * *

><p>Harry sat alone by the Black Lake. It was calm, peaceful; something he had been looking for at the moment. The Weasley's had all left to Shell Cottage to begin arrangements for Fred's funeral, which was to be held within the next few days. Harry refused to come along with them, saying that this was a matter that only family should be involved in, but he started to feel guilt building up inside him; he had left Ginny alone. Everyone else had the shoulder of someone else to cry on through this particular time, as all others invited (including Hermione) had traveled with the family, but Ginny was gone, away from him with her family, planning the funeral of her older brother. He tried to distract himself from this by focusing on the scenery around him, trying to convince himself that this was what he needed, but the guilty feeling hardly subsided.<p>

Already the restructure of Hogwarts had begun; dozens of trained Aurors provided strong magical enchantments around the school grounds. Other than the sound of static coming from the Wireless sitting next to Harry, the grounds were completely silent. Harry had heard that many qualified wizards were in what was left of the Great Hall, discussing plans for the rebuilding of the school. This left nobody to bother him; most of the students had returned home with families, as well as a number of staff members who had fled the building. It was hard to take note of the emptiness of the grounds because of the dark reason behind it.

At precisely 3 o'clock, Harry heard the static noise disappear, to be replaced with Kingsley's distinctive voice. He turned up the volume and listened as he looked out into the distance.

'_Good afternoon. This is Kingsley Shacklebolt, newly appointed Minister of Magic. I speak today of news that will cause the wizarding community to rejoice: the Dark wizard known to the world as Lord Voldemort has died early this morning, at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He was killed by his own rebounding curse while attempting to kill Harry Potter. His body has already been dealt with and disposed of.'_

Harry smiled to himself. By "dealt with and disposed of," Harry knew it to mean that the few students who remained at the school had permission to set the corpse on fire. Neville Longbottom in particular had cast flames so powerful it had restored light to the lanterns all throughout the Great Hall. The staff members showed great pride to this and applauded Neville's magic.

'_It is understandable that many of you are questioning the reliability of this pronouncement. It has been said before that Voldemort has been defeated and will never return, yet he has done so in recent years. I tell you with all certainty that Voldemort is definitely dead. I do not have the type of evidence that can be explained through a broadcast, but the portrait of former Hogwarts Headmaster Albus Dumbledore has the strictest confidence that he is truly gone for good._

'_Considering the state that our world has been in for the past two years, the sudden death of the mastermind behind it all can be at blame for multiple emotions likely to be felt in the next short while. These emotions could swell into something that could affect the lives of wizards and Muggles alike. If every man were to have strong reactions, the world as we know it can turn into absolute chaos. I must ask you, on behalf of myself and the entire Ministry, to stay as calm as possible through the process of reform. The more amount of cooperation from the community, the quicker we will be able to return the world to the state it was in before the takeover of evil._

'_Although the life of the sovereign who ran the organization known as Death Eaters, who have inflicted the tribulations occurring these many months, has finally ended, there are still likely those who wish to continue Voldemort's campaign. The majority of our Auror staff at the Ministry is working on imprisoning all those who have been involved with Voldemort or the Death Eaters. There will be trials set up in the future to determine if the accused truly had alliances with the Death Eaters, but in the meantime, a number of alleged members will be sent to Azkaban prison as a precaution._

'_With that being said, it is imperative that you stay together as a community during this time of restructure. If we are to join one another and assist each other through these difficult times, the probability of an easier development dramatically increases. As mentioned, a great number of workers have begun reforming the wizarding world, yet there is always risk that further troubles should arise. Until our world has been transformed, and even after it has been transformed, stay close to those you love, for they will need your guidance and support at this time more than ever.'_

There was a dramatic pause that gave Harry time to reflect. He thought of people he needed, and those who needed him back. He thought of Ron, who had just lost a brother. He thought of Hermione, who showed early in the morning that the Battle had put some stress on her shoulders. He thought of Ginny, usually composed and strong, who he saw break down before him today. And he left her when she needed him the most. The thought made Harry feel sick to his stomach.

'_By enormous request by the public,' _Kingsley started again, bringing Harry back to the broadcast, '_the Ministry will present weekly updates on the state of the reform via the Wireless Network. Ideally, I will be the one making the broadcast, yet the current state of our world may prevent me from doing so. The time of the next broadcast will be precisely one week from today. If there is any important breaking news that happens between now and 9th May, we will be sure to provide you with the information. In the meantime, I implore the community to stand united as we do our best to provide structure to the wizarding world. I am Kingsley Shacklebolt, Minister of Magic, and I wish all a good day.'_

The broadcast had ended, the returning static echoing over the lake.

* * *

><p>The night had fallen. It was an incredibly starless night, with only a foggy haze in the distance caused from the protective enchantments around the school. Occasionally the wind would blow through the trees, and it could be heard from inside Hogwarts if one was in a quiet room.<p>

The Weasleys and company had returned to Hogwarts for the evening. Mrs Weasley was insistent that the family would stay together for the night, and as there was not enough room at Shell Cottage (and for the fact that George refused point-blank that he would not return to The Burrow, to the same room that he and Fred shared) they had returned to Hogwarts. There was enough room for the whole family, seeing as the castle was nearly vacated minus the volunteers and workers. This arrangement would last only for one night, as Bill had spoken to a wizard who owned a shop in Diagon Alley to rent out high-quality tents to be placed outside Shell Cottage so all could be kept there.

Mr and Mrs Weasley, Bill, Fleur Charlie and Percy, and their girlfriends Mirona and Audrey were all in the Great Hall, working with other volunteers helping out with the plans for the Hogwarts rebuild. George had avoided the others for the night, and had long disappeared up to the Dormitories with Angelina by his side. This left Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny sitting alone in the Gryffindor Common Room. Ginny sat partially on top of Harry, sharing a chair by the fireplace just as Ron and Hermione were doing. They said nothing to eachother but the silence wasn't awkward; there was a sincere feeling of appreciation going around the room, as if everyone had transmitted a thought of thankfulness to one another.

Fred's funeral would take place the day after next. As Ginny had told Harry, he would be laid to rest at Shell Cottage. The plan for the funeral was for it to be very simple; Fred wasn't one to follow tradition and would have wanted a more unprofessional affair. However, there would be many non-traditional, personal touches that the family agreed that Fred would have appreciated. Ginny had also told Harry that George insisted on writing a speech to say at the funeral, a task which he would only let Angelina assist him with in private.

Ginny stared into the fire, eyes unfocused, placing her head on Harry's shoulder. Harry felt her long, wet hair (she had just had a shower) dampen his T-shirt, but he did not worry about this. He held her hand, twisting his fingers with hers as he too looked at the flames. The fire danced in its place for hours. Harry occasionally wondered if everyone else had fallen asleep, but checked to see Ron and Hermione simply looking at one another, Ron playing with her hair, and Ginny responding to him squeezing her hand by gripping his.

It was likely midnight. They were still alone in the common room, as the others had not returned yet. Harry was tired. He did not have a full night's sleep and the thought of Fred's funeral seemed to emotionally drain him. Also, the effects of the Dreamless Sleep Potion that Slughorn had brewed that morning for all the remaining visitors at Hogwarts made him feel a little weary. He wondered how long he would be able to stay awake.

And suddenly, Ginny turned to look at Harry. The movement around him shocked him and turned to look at her so quickly she leaned back and nearly fell off of the chair. Harry grabbed her arm to keep her from falling and steadied her. She smiled at Harry and he smiled back.

'I'm going to bed,' she announced to the group. It was almost in a whisper, but as no noise was made in the past few hours, the sound seemed to have carried. Ron and Hermione nodded in her direction as their way of wishing her a good night. Harry kissed her and said good night, but as she stood up she still held on to his hand.

'Come with me,' she said.

Ron's eyes darted from Harry to Ginny in almost painful stares. Harry half-wished that Ginny had not asked him because of the suspicious looks that Ron was giving him. However, the way she had asked him was almost a plea; her voice had lacked the confidence Harry knew. It would seem tactless to refuse her request now, but the stares Ron continued to give him made him feel as if he was under a spotlight.

Finally, he had made his decision. He stood up, still grasping her hand, and walked up into the Dormitory. Harry felt Ron's eyes burn into the back of his head and ushered Ginny forward so he could avoid it. When they reached the hall separating the two Dormitories, Ginny automatically went towards the Boy's Dormitory. At first, Harry was confused, but quickly understood why she had chosen this: she didn't want to sleep in the room where her deceased brother was lying hours earlier. George and Angelina were both already sleeping, their slow, deep breathing filling the room.

Ginny advanced forward, not letting go of Harry's hand, and crawled onto the bed Harry had slept in the night before without changing into pajamas. Harry sat on the edge of the bed as Ginny crawled under the blankets. Once she settled into her sheets, her eyes met Harry's.

There was something in Ginny's eyes that Harry had never known before. Was it fear? The eyes he was looking into had a sort of a hidden quality to them, as if there was something she didn't want Harry to know. The insecurity threw Harry slightly off guard, as he had known Ginny to be a burst of energy and confidence. It almost hurt Harry to see this. He knew why she was like this: it was because of the Battle, and the devastation that hit home. It killed Fred. It had affected her entire family and she was grieving. Harry didn't know how he could help her.

Ginny closed her eyes. 'Please stay with me,' she said quietly.

Harry gave the hand he was still holding a reassuring squeeze and responded, 'OK.'

'Just until I fall asleep,' said Ginny.

Harry nodded, then realized she wouldn't be able to see him with her eyes closed. Harry replied by saying 'OK' again.

The room became quiet, with only the sound of them breathing making any noise. Harry sat on the edge of the bed, running his thumb along the side of her hand to comfort her. He knew she wasn't asleep yet, as her hand was still gripping back hard. He wouldn't leave her side until he was absolutely sure she was sleeping; he didn't want her to lose trust in him. It was getting increasingly difficult, as Harry felt as though he could fall asleep any moment.

After about half an hour, Ginny opened her eyes. They were watery.

'I'm sorry,' she said tiredly.

'What for?'

'For being like this.'

Harry leaned in and kissed her lightly on the forehead. He wanted to reassure her the best he could. It was still too much to grasp that Ginny, confident Ginny, needed someone to keep her going. 'I promise I'll be there for you,' he whispered.

She nodded and closed her eyes. It took her a little more than ten minutes to fall asleep now. Harry was exhausted, but took his time getting up to go. He paid attention to how peacefully Ginny looked as she slept; her eyelashes fluttering with every deep breath she took. He knew because of the Dreamless Sleep Potion that at this moment in time, she was peaceful. She was away from everything she feared from the waking world. But as soon as she would wake up, it would all come back. Sleep was the only thing separating Ginny from the terror, the having to deal with her brother's death. Harry wished for her sake that she could be able to sleep forever with the effects of this potion and live in a perfect world.

Harry carefully took his hand out of Ginny's, took one last look at her, and returned to the Common Room. He thought it would be polite to wish Ron and Hermione goodnight, and he also didn't want Ron to have any suspicions. When he came to the bottom of the stairs, however, he found Hermione already asleep, head on Ron's shoulder. Ron, however, seemed perfectly awake, looking straight at Harry as though his stares had not ended from before.

'You need to be careful,' he instantly rounded on Harry.

'What do you mean?'

'That's my sister.'

Harry knew perfectly well where this was going, but couldn't think of anything to say and remained quiet. Ron continued.

'Do you know how weird it is seeing my sister and my best friend –'

'Well,' said Harry, trying to finish this quickly, 'are you and Hermione officially together now?'

Ron blushed, but spoke confidently. 'Yeah, we are.'

'It's the same thing for me too,' said Harry, even though he didn't feel strongly about it; he just wanted to make a point. 'You're my best friend and she's like my sister.'

'There's a difference,' said Ron, getting louder.

'Be quiet, you don't want to wake up your _girlfriend_.'

Ron turned red some more, and closed the topic. He broke his stare at Harry and looked towards Hermione, fast asleep on his shoulder. After a moment, he turned back to look at Harry.

'Hermione and I are going to Australia,' said Ron suddenly. Harry looked at him confused.

'Australia?' he asked. 'Why are you – oh, yeah, you're going to find her parents?'

Ron nodded. 'We're leaving the day after Fred's funeral. I don't think we'll be gone for too long, but you never know.'

'Things will be a lot easier without trying to run away from Voldemort, wouldn't it.'

Ron flinched, but only slightly. Harry thought after all the years of saying his name, he was finally adjusting to it. 'Yeah,' he said, 'I guess it would.'

There was a pause where neither of them said anything. And then –

'I'm worried about her,' he said quietly.

Harry knew that by 'her', he meant Hermione, and nodded in agreement. He looked at her, who also looked peaceful, yet Harry knew that sleep was her escape as well.

'I'm worried about Ginny,' Harry said to Ron in response. Ron half-nodded. 'It's a lot safer around here now, and they're strong. They'll get through this.'

'Yeah,' said Ron again.

Another pause. The crackling of the fire added a certain drowsiness to the room. Harry decided that he had finally reached his limit and decided it was time for him to sleep.

'I'm going to bed,' said Harry. 'You coming up?'

Ron shook his head, looking down at Hermione. 'No, I don't want to wake her.'

'All right, see you.'

'See you.'

Harry returned up the stairs to the Dormitory, leaving Ron and a sleeping Hermione sitting by the Common Room Fire. Ron was worried about Hermione just as the way he worried about Ginny. He meant what he said, that they were both strong, but this was something that may have caused them to reach their breaking point. Harry knew that he would do whatever he could to help Ginny rebuild and that Ron would do the same for Hermione. It was all they could do.

And without really thinking, but rather knowing it all along, Harry entered the Boys Dormitory, put his glasses on the nearby table, and slipped into his bed, Ginny beside him. He took her hand and held it just as he did before, just looking at her as she slept before he too would doze off. Right before he managed to fall asleep, she woke up, noticing him lying next to her. She smiled and closed her eyes again, trying not to lose the opportunity to drift back off into sleep again.

'Thank you,' she whispered.

Harry kissed her on the forehead for the second time that night. He wondered if anything could be as beautiful as the girl that was beside him, half-asleep, almost re-entering a perfect, dreamless world.

'I'll always be here.'

_Author's Note: Aaaaaaand … done! Yes! That is a huge weight off my shoulders! Up next is Fred's funeral … it'll be sad but I'm a lot more satisfied of the way I wrote it! Thanks for reading, and be sure to leave a review!_


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